


Hierarchy of Needs

by spinner_atropos



Category: The X-Files
Genre: Domestic, Established Relationship, F/M, Insomnia, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Woman on Top
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-24
Updated: 2014-09-24
Packaged: 2018-02-18 16:18:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,097
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2354774
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spinner_atropos/pseuds/spinner_atropos
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"I'm a guy, I'm *always* interested in sex, and one good orgasm puts me out like a light.  Don't you want me to sleep?"</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hierarchy of Needs

**Author's Note:**

> This one might actually end up having chapters.

The case is over, the details are wrapped up, and the first round of paperwork is done. We've been out in the field for several days, and it's obviously starting catch up with Mulder. I'm driving--I'd argued him down about that--but he's still awake in the passenger seat, hands not quite still, nodding unconsciously to himself, as if he's having a conversation with someone. I still haven't figured out if this is a sign that he's running on pure adrenaline or that he's just really tired.

"For God's sake, Mulder, go to sleep."

"I'm getting there."

"Do you have any sleeping pills?"

"Just over-the-counter. They give me a hangover."

By the time we get to his place he's visibly slowing down and I decide I'd better get him into his apartment. As I try to get the door open he leans companionably on my shoulder as if we've been out drinking together; the added weight isn't making this any easier. "Gonna put me to bed?" he asks as we get inside, giving me a come-hither look.

"You're ready to collapse and haven't eaten anything more substantial than sunflower seeds in a week, but you're still more interested in sex."

"I'm a guy, I'm _always_ interested in sex, and one good orgasm puts me out like a light. Don't you want me to sleep?"

While the orgasm remark isn't necessarily true, in his current state he's probably right. "Okay, fine, just let me get my stuff." He grins at his victory--it's so easy to make him happy sometimes--and I head back out to the car for my bag.

When I come back the apartment is dark. I feel him come up behind me as the door shuts. "Allow me," he murmurs, taking my bag and slipping my holster out of my waistband. With those set aside his hands settle on my hips, holding me in place as he nuzzles at my neck and presses himself against me. From the feel of things he's already naked and already aroused. I wonder if he had to help it along, and my own libido surges at the image.

Mulder undoes my jeans, slipping his fingers under my panties and sliding them down my hips. I arch my back, moving against his erection, and he moves his hands up to my stomach, thrusting against me more insistently. "What to do with you," he murmurs into my hair.

"There's a quick way to accomplish this," I tell him, reaching back to stroke his penis.

"That wouldn't be fair."

"Oh, don't worry, I'd get my repayment later," I assure him, turning to face him for a good long kiss.

"It wouldn't be as much fun," he insists when we part again. Obviously he's in the mood for a more full-body experience. Not that I have any complaints.

"Well, if you insist, this way," I tell him, leading him to the couch. "I have an idea."

I push gently on his shoulders until he sits down, watching me with an expression of anticipation. I peel my shirt off and turn my back to Mulder so he can undo my bra. With that out of the way he slides his hands around to cup my breasts, squeezing them gently. I move back and fold one leg onto the couch to sit astride him, his hard-on rubbing between my labia in a wonderful way. "I like this idea," he says, moving his hips experimentally.

One hand leaves my breasts, stroking over my ribs and waist on its way to settle between my legs. He wets his fingertips and starts circling my clit, occasionally moving down to press his cock harder against me, masturbating both of us at the same time. Intriguing.

He rubs my clit again and I feel the first pre-orgasmic flush. I must make some noise, because he starts pressing kisses to my neck and shoulder. "Ohhhh, Scully," he groans. I don't bother with a reply, but rise up enough to take him in hand and slide down onto him, the penetration deliciously deep.

From the sound of Mulder's breathing, it does good things for him too. I arch my back and squeeze deliberately, which triggers another rush of sensation; he shudders. "Come for me, Scully," he growls in my ear, has hand returning to my clit. He bucks underneath me, starting to lose control, his fingers working me until orgasm hits me like a whitewater rush. As it passes I hear Mulder's voice, the sexual nothings he comes out with in the heat of the moment, and then a shaking moan as he thrusts up hard and goes briefly rigid. His arms wrap tightly around me and he presses his face against my hair.

"Ready to move to the bed?" I ask him.

"Don't think I'll make it."

I leave his lap and grab a few tissues from the box that's always conveniently close to the couch, doing sufficient cleanup that we won't wake up stuck to each other or to the couch. "Will we fit?"

He pulls me down to spoon with him and tugs the blanket down over us. "We've fit on here before."

"Yes, but we were awake."

"You complain constantly about my sleeping habits, what makes you think I'll let go of you this time?"

"You're contrary."

He wraps himself around me in the usual manner. "See? We'll be fine." A deep sigh. "We need to do that again when I'm more coherent."

"I thought you might enjoy it."

He makes a contented sound. "Since you don't like what I've been eating, are you feeding me later?"

"You know where to find your own food. I've seen your take-out menu collection."

"I was kind of hoping you might make something for me."

"Cook for you?"

His tone is suddenly non-committal. "It was a thought."

The idea of cooking for Mulder is unexpected, and just feels... odd. But not bad. "You haven't died of malnutrition in all the time I've known you."

"Awww, c'mon Scully." He can feel my capitulation, and the combination of his playful wheedle and sleepy satedness is powerful. "Fine, but you're buying. And cleaning up. And probably helping."

"Deal." He sounds so pleased about it. It really is ridiculously easy to make him happy sometimes.

"And you even think the word 'laundry' and _you're_ the one getting pushed off this couch." He laughs and hugs me tighter. "Any ideas _what_ you want?"

"Can I get back to you on that?" His breathing slows down before he's barely finished the sentence, and he's asleep.


End file.
